Leading Edge: Madai Perez

We need a stronger word in running for "leader." When the frontrunners swept into sight at 4 miles in the New York "Mini" Women's 10K, Madai Perez (Mexico) was the leader. But that word falls short of describing the passion, the pulsating bared-teeth wide-eyed fiery spirit of her leading. Three yards ahead, Perez's entire being showed her intent to break from Hilda kibet. She did not succeed, but I'll long remember how she tried.

I scarcely recognized the warm, friendly 28-year-old I had met over coffee the day before, smiling radiantly whenever we mentioned her son, her husband, her coach, or her Mexican home.

"My first priority is my 6-year-old son, Kenjiro. My second priority is my sport. It is my husband Odilón who makes it possible to combine them," she said through an interpreter. That combination has taken her to a 2:22:59 Mexican marathon record, set at Chicago in 2006, and to an unforgettably hard-to-shake third place at Boston in 2007. At Chicago, her running partnership with Odilón also produced a then-world best for a husband-wife double in the same race, a combined time of 4:41:42.

"We usually train at the same venue, often a park near our home, but we run separately on our own schedules. Odilón improved to 2:16 in March," she said proudly.

She spoke equally warmly of her coach, German (pronounced: Her-man) Silva, New York City Marathon champion in 1994 and 1995.

"German has coached me since 2002, and I keep improving. He is very organized, very systematic. Now everything is focused on the Olympic marathon. In May, I ran my best track 10,000 meters, 31:30.23, but will race only the marathon in Beijing."

To that end she was running 15 miles a day, and increased that to 19 miles before Beijing. Include two sessions a week of 8 x 1,000m at increasing pace, and you have a perfectly balanced buildup from a mileage base, tilting toward race-pace effort. The 6,500-foot altitude of her home at San Luis Potosi is also part of Coach Silva's system. In specific preparation for Beijing, Perez shuttled week by week between the altitude of her home and a sea level base.

"After the Olympics, I will rest for a year," she said. A qualified physical education specialist, she seems unburdened by vanity or desire for fame. When I asked whether she is a heroine in Mexico, she laughed.

"In Mexico they only care about soccer."

Yet in the 1980s and '90s, her country produced a dynasty of great runners, from Rodolfo Gomez, Arturo Barrios, and Dionicio Cerón, to Salvador Garcia, Andrés Espinosa and Silva. Perez could yet become one of their greatest, with her work ethic, competitive focus, and familiarity with Beijing-like heat. I said so.

"Thank you," she said, with a relaxed smile. But next day, making it hurt for Kibet, she was pure resolute intensity. Mexico might perhaps have been thinking about something other than soccer on August 17.